


Sir, that is my emotional support cat

by ihaveaducknamedpaul



Series: Soulmate Pet AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Milk bread date, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, but his emotional support cat bullies him until he feels better, soulmate pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveaducknamedpaul/pseuds/ihaveaducknamedpaul
Summary: On someone's sixteenth birthday, they receive an animal that has the personality of their soulmate.On Oikawa's birthday, he receives a cat. He's a bit of an asshole, but that's okay because there is nothing he wouldn't do for that damn cat.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Soulmate Pet AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862725
Comments: 20
Kudos: 349





	Sir, that is my emotional support cat

Every person has a soulmate. That person is the other half of your soul, they are meant to complete you. To get to know your soulmate better, on your sixteenth birthday you receive a pet who is said to behave as your soulmate does. This pet has a particular attachment to your soulmate, and it is said that they know who they are. 

On one particularly hot summer evening, Oikawa and Iwaizumi lie stretched out on the grass of Oikawa’s back yard. It's almost midnight, the sun finally disappearing behind the horizon and leaving a pleasant, cooling breeze in its wake. This is one of the few times Oikawa’s mother has allowed them both to stay up so late. Waiting for your soulmate pet is important after all. 

“Hey Iwa-chan,” Oikawa speaks up through the comfortable silence they had created, “what do you think my soulmate will be like?” He pulls up blades of grass, sprinkling the pieces around him. 

Iwaizumi sits up, leaning back on his hands as he stares at the darkening sky in thought. Then, he grins, turning his head to look down at him. “I bet they have a shitty personality, like you.” 

“You're so cruel to me!” He cries, rolling until he can grab at his best friend in an over dramatic hug. Iwaizumi huffs and half heartedly pushes him away. He's always been a softie when they're alone together. 

During their temporary distraction, the mysterious magic of soulmate pets starts working and the sound of a kitten’s mewl reaches their ears. Oikawa throws himself from Iwaizumi, whips around to face the kitten that has invaded his garden. 

It's a tiny thing, a creamy white ball of fur with little brown socks and ears. With a loud cry, it runs forward, jumping at his face with no mercy. He screeches and falls backwards into the grass in an attempt to protect his beautiful face from the attack of tiny claws. 

Iwaizumi, like the great friend he is, collapses in a fit of laughter. The traitor. 

Managing to take a hold of the kitten, he holds it out as far as he can from his face. The poor thing doesn't seem to know what to do, it's body falling limp in his grip. 

Of course he would get a crazy person for a soulmate. This cat sees him and the first thing it wants to do is ruin his amazing complexion. Clearly his soulmate is going to find him intimidatingly gorgeous. He slowly inches the kitten back towards him, hoping that it's calmed down enough to check the gender. 

Nothing happens, so he assumes it's safe and what happened was just how normal kittens play. 

But no, the kitten immediately sticks its foot into his eye. He yelps, bringing it back out to arm length. Who knows what it could have stepped in? 

Iwaizumi leans in and hums, “your soulmate’s a guy,” he remarks almost offhandedly. It's not like Oikawa has anything to be ashamed about though, he's made his attraction to guys apparent since he was as young as twelve. “Do you even know how to look after a cat?” 

“You'll help me, right?” He turns a pleading gaze to Iwaizumi, sticking his bottom lip out for good measure. His best friend sighs, stands up and offers his hand.

“You're useless. I'll find out what breed it is and we'll go from there.” 

Oikawa takes his hand with a grin, the kitten now clinging tightly to his sleeve. That's okay, it's definitely not his favourite alien hoodie and one of the alien’s eyes definitely isn't being poked out by the kitten’s claws. 

  
  





  
  


The kitten (who still needs a name) is a birman. Usually, birmans are calm and affectionate, and don't constantly demand attention. 

Everything this website has told them about the breed is a lie. 

It's been an hour since Oikawa has met this kitten, and he has not stopped moving. So far there has been two broken glasses, one ripped handbag his sister will surely kill him for destroying, and he's had to give up his UFO shaped pillow for him to settle down on. Why must everything bad happen to him? Luckily his mother had slept soundly through the entire ordeal. 

Iwaizumi sighs, leans back in the desk chair he's not moved from since researching how to care for a birman cat. “This is almost as bad as Mattsun.” 

Ah yes. Mattsun. Not their friend Mattsun, but the ferret Makki received on his birthday. In a true state of Mattsun and Makki fashion, they had named their soulmate pets after each other after claiming they knew they were soulmates. 

Well, they weren't wrong. 

Oikawa groans, leaning back against the wall. “I hate to admit that it is.” His bed is ruined, but he refuses to make it again since he'll be sleeping in it at some point tonight. The kitten is asleep exactly where he puts his head, his paws kneading the fabric of the pillow as he dreams. “Are you staying over?” 

“No reason not to,” Iwaizumi shrugs, standing up from the chair and stretching. His joints pop loudly, sending a miniscule shudder down Oikawa's spine. 

Surely in the morning everything will bode much better. 

  
  





  
  


Things did in fact go a little more successfully. 

Oikawa walks into early morning practice with only a few scratches on his cheek and a singular cut across his forehead. Upon seeing Milkbread perched on his shoulder, claws dug deep into the fabric of his uniform, Makki falls to the gym floor in a fit of giggles, Mattsun joining him soon after. 

(“You need to give this cat a name Shittykawa.” 

“I can't just think of one, it needs to be an amazing name. Like Martian or Tooru Jr!” 

“They're terrible names!” 

“Hey, you can't say a damn thing. You called your budgie Godzilla.” 

“It's a good name.” 

“Fine. What about Milkbread?”) 

“Sure guys, laugh it up now. I'll just make Milkbread attack you.” He drawls, attempting to pry the furry beast from his shoulder so he can go and change. 

The pair of them continue laughing, only stopping to take deep breaths before setting themselves off again. Yahaba, the innocent first year that he is, jogs up to Oikawa with wide eyes. “Oikawa-senpai, are you okay?” 

“I'm perfectly fine, Yahaba-chan,” he replies cheerily, ruffling his hair in a way that makes the younger setter blush fiercely 

Mattsun and Makki finally stop laughing after Milkbread bites their ankles. 

  
  





  
  


It takes a while for Oikawa and Milkbread to get used to each other. Since birmans are intelligent breeds, it doesn't take long for Oikawa to train him. No more injury of personal belongings or his face. Bless the gods for that. 

For some reason, Milkbread still keeps the habit of hitting people, whenever he's close enough he chooses to bat them instead of using claws. Not that Oikawa's exactly complaining, it's funny to watch his little cat scare two of his closest friends just by taking a step towards them. 

He's been neglecting his homework for the last two months, instead staying in the gym for hours to practise and scribbling down something on his homework last minute. There's a thrum of pain in his knee that comes and goes, and he knows he should probably rest. He can't though, not when that bastard Ushiwaka is trying extra hard to get on his nerves lately. 

_ Shiratorizawa this, Shiratorizawa that. Ooh, you should have come to Shiratorizawa. Fuck Shiratorizawa.  _

The light of his laptop has gone far past giving him a headache, his eyes beginning to burn from the strain of keeping them open. Over and over, he replays previous games of Seijoh vs. Shiratorizawa. Step by step plans dedicated to defeating Ushiwaka try to form in his mind. At this point, it's not just volleyball, but life in general. He's going to live the best damn life ever and be much happier than Ushiwaka ever will. 

His temple throbs painfully, and a small weight appearing on his lap brings him back to reality. Milkbread purrs softly, butting his head into Oikawa’s stomach. “You're right, I should probably sleep,” he muses, and scoops him up as he stands. 

Focussing on training and gaining the trust of his new budgie, Iwaizumi isn't around as often as he used to be. He's no longer there to pull Oikawa from his sprials before they can even start. 

Over the months though, Milkbread does help him. Even if it is in his own annoying, cat-like way. 

For example, when Oikawa is drained from practice, his body weak and mind calling him a failure on repeat like a broken record, he will lie down in bed. Whether he sleeps is a different thing, most of the time spent staring at his ceiling, counting the many glow in the dark stars stuck up there and wondering if he's actually good enough. Milkbread will be there, sitting on his chest and batting his face and meowing loudly until he gets up and takes a shower. 

Sometimes, Milkbread will be calm, sitting on the beloved UFO pillow and watching Oikawa quietly. What's up with that?

The nights when Oikawa can't sleep, his mind is too busy asking him insignificant questions. Has he spent too much time with his girlfriend lately? Do his friends even miss him if he has. Does he deserve the love that his friends and family give him every day? His turmoil will draw Milkbread close, the cat tucking himself into the crook of his neck and purring until he falls asleep. 

When his knee hurts so much it keeps him awake at night, he will lie there in silence, clutching his knee and praying it goes away. Somehow, Milkbread still knows and drapes himself over Oikawa's lower thigh, letting his natural body heat soothe some of his pain. 

Some days, Oikawa really wonders why he thought this kitten was an asshole. If his soulmate is as caring as this kitten, then there is no doubt he will fall head over heels for this person. He ignores the questions of doubt that plague his mind, pushing them to the corner of his thoughts and focusing on brushing Milkbread’s silky fur. 

When the third years tell him he will be the next captain, Iwa-chani, Makki and Mattsun take him out to celebrate. He says it isn't a big deal, tries to stop them, but they haven't hung out like this in such a long time. So he lets the three of them drag him around an arcade he would usually go crazy for, making high scores and doing challenges with his friends. His mind is somewhere else for the entire trip though, and when he gets home he expects the weight of Milkbread on his chest. 

Surely enough, his cat strolls out of the kitchen, flicking out his tongue like he's just eaten. He totters over to the couch Oikawa dropped himself on, jumps up onto his chest and curls up in a loose ball. The familiar rumble of his purrs soothes him, and he allows himself to speak. “I don't know what to do Milky-chan.” Milkbread lifts his head at the nickname, big, blue eyes boring into his soul. “I expected to become the next captain. Why do I feel so shitty though? All I can think about is why I don't deserve it and it's pissing me off.” 

He lifts up his hand, stroking through Milkbread’s soft fur. “I'm not an asshole right? I deserve the things I work hard for.” Milkbread doesn't reply, obviously, he's a cat. The lack of answer is disheartening though. “It hurts, Milkbread, it really does.” 

His cat purrs, nuzzling into his hand and giving the tip of his finger a small lick. It's weird, he's never been licked by a cat before. The texture is rough, completely different to how he thought it would be. He sucks in a deep breath, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Fuck, you're a good cat.” 

  
  





  
  


The worst inevitably happens.

As the captain of the team, he obviously has a key to the gym, making practising before the third year even starts an easy task. 

He's in the gym one night (it's probably night, he's spent too long in the building to tell), when he goes to make a jump. The sudden pressure in his knee jarrs him, throwing off the aim of his serve and causing him to land awkwardly. He cries out at the sudden rush of pain that accompanies the ache in his muscles, clutching his knee as he curls in on himself. 

Iwa-chan, he needs to call Iwa-chan. 

Pathetically dragging himself across the floor, he fishes his phone from his pocket and rings his best friend. He answers obviously, he's reliable like that. “Hello?” 

“Iwa-chan,” he manages to gasp out through pained breaths, a quiet whine passing his lips as he bends his knee slightly. 

Immediately, there's the sound of movement on the other end of the phone. Oh good, he's coming to get him. “Tooru, where the hell are you right now?” 

“The gym.” 

“Stay the fuck there, don't move.”

Through the haze of pain, he manages to laugh. “I don't think moving’s an option, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi ends the call with a quick, “stay safe, you bastard,” and again, Oikawa is left alone in the silence of the gym. When he's practicing, the sound of the balls slamming into the ground is enough to distract him. But now, with nothing to fill the quiet, all of his worries freely pile up. 

On the cusp of a panic attack, lying on his side with his head pressed against the gym floor, Iwaizumi arrives just in time. He slams open the door, running over and crouching down next to him. “Fuck, okay, shit. Take a deep breath.” The hand wriggling into his grasp, strong and calloused, ground him. “Can you sit up for me.” 

Breathing out slowly, Oikawa lets Iwaizumi help him up into a sitting position. He focuses on the cold of the wall pressing against his back, Iwaizumi’s hand in his own, matching his breaths to his friend's. Everything's fine, Iwa-chan is here with him, there's nothing to worry about. 

Once he's finally calm, he and Iwaizumi slowly hobble their way back home. Not once does he ask why he was practising so late, only quiet words of reassurance as they watch the night sky. It hurts to put weight on his knee, but the pain is manageable, so it could just be a sprain. Nothing major, he will recover and be playing as school clubs start up again. 

  
  





  
  


In the two months Oikawa was told to spend recovering, Milkbread seems much calmer, prone to stay sat on his lap and refusing to let him move. The days where he felt like doing jump serves in his garden were instead spent watching reruns of The X-Files after Milkbread would attack him for moving. 

The cat is smart, especially after spending almost a year watching Oikawa’s bad habits come into fruition. 

He's meant to spend another week recovering, but even Milkbread can't stop him from visiting his not-so-favourite kouhai in the practice match with Karasuno. “Oh you little shit, come on.” The grip of Milkbread's claws on his ankle releases as he scoops up his cat in his arms. Their walk over to the school is spent with Milkbread climbing up onto his shoulders and chewing on his ear like the beast he is. 

Unsurprisingly, the game is well on its way when he arrives. When he walks into the gym, the cheers of his fans draw everyone's attention towards him. Good, now they know who the real deal is. 

Shoulders squared, he wanders over to the coach, lips pulled into a small smirk. “Oh, you let them steal a set from us? Looks like I arrived just in time.” 

“You're back! How's your knee?” Coach Irihata turns in his chair, giving him a smile. 

Oikawa likes coach Irihata, he always lets him play but still makes sure he feels fine. He pries Milkbread from his shoulder, mourning the state of his jacket as his claws tear up loose threats. “Perfectly fine, it was only a light sprain.” 

Coach grunts, crossing his arms. “Be more careful next time.” 

For once, he lets his smile turn a little sheepish, and he scratches the back of his head with his free hand. Milkbread hisses unhappily at the screams of adoration his fans throw his way. “Sorry about that.” He tunes out what is said to him next, feeling the multiple gazes locked onto him. It's quite the ego boost, really. 

Coach sends him off to warm up before he's switched in, he listens, but not without sparing Kageyama a wave. “Long time no see, Tobio-chan. You've grown up since I last saw you.” As if hearing his condescending tone, Milkbread reaches up and bats him on the cheek. The cheek of this cat. “Stop making me look uncool,” he whispers to Milkbread, placing him down on the ground so he can start stretching. 

Immediately, Milkbread bounds away towards a bag in the corner of the gym. There's a beagle lounging on top of it, Mattsun’s dog, Makki. The two animals are best friends, content to sit there and hit each other with their paws. At least he knows his cat will be kept in check while he plays. 

There's still the heavy feeling of someone watching him, and he almost turns around to look at them. No, he'll do that after, more subtly.

Watching Karasuno take more points from them, it makes something curl inside him. He makes his way back over to coach, watching a particularly pretty third year outright stare at him through the corner of his vision. Even as he turns and flashes him a charming smile, the silver haired setter doesn't look away, only blushing and pursing his lips. 

Well then, this could turn out to be fun. 

During his first serve, those hazel eyes don't leave him. Even his second or third, narrowed eyes watch and track his every move. It's exactly like Milkbread in a way that makes him scowl a little to himself. Everything happens so fast, Shrimpy running across the entire court, the ball flying past his face. They all line up, Makki slings his arm over his shoulders and leans close. “What's got you thinkin’ so hard, dearest captain?” 

“Something that is too difficult for you to understand,” he jokes, wrapping his own arm around Makki’s shoulders. 

Mattsun hums, sliding up on Oikawa's other side to sandwich him in. “Oh? Then you must have a headache from trying to understand it yourself.” 

“Iwa-chan!” He doesn't even bother to hide the childish whine, “Mattsun is bullying me.” 

Without even sparing him a glance, Iwaizumi holds out his hand for Mattsun to high five. “Good.” 

“I don't deserve this blatant abuse, I am your captain and you must do as I say!” He escapes from his friends’ holds, jumping back a few feet for extra safety. Despite everything, there's a smile on his face, he's not been able to properly joke with them for a while now. 

While everyone else is busy saying goodbye, Oikawa manages to slip away, scooping up Milkbread and ducking away. His knee hurts a little, he may have strained it a little too much trying to show off. Not that he would admit it. 

Milkbread chirps, stretching up to headbutt his chin. He chuckles, tickling the cat under his chin and scratching behind his ears. “I found a pretty cute one today, stares at me just like you.” Sometimes, Oikawa thinks Milkbread can understand him, like now, when he stops nuzzling into his jaw to meow loudly in protest. “Don't get sassy with me, I'm the one that brushes your fur every week. You ruined my space blanket.” 

Ears folding back, Milkbread stares up at him with wide eyes. It's the closest thing to a pout that he can pull off, and Oikawa hates to admit that he's weak to it. He hugs him closer, pressing a little kiss to Milkbread’s head. “You're a beast.” 

Just as he's about to continue his one-sided conversation with his cat, he hears Karasuno’s captain speak up around the corner. He straightens up balancing Milkbread on one arm and stroking through his fur with his other hand, he's always wondered why supervillains with cats do that. 

The tailend of the conversation allows him just enough information to make a snarky comment. “As expected of the captain,” he drawls, his gaze zeroing in on the silver haired beauty that's watching him again with wary eyes. “You really understand that you're at the bottom of the pecking order.”

The baldy tries to pick a fight, Milkbread squirms in his grip. Letting his cat attack someone he doesn't know wouldn't bode well for his reputation. “Hey now, I just came to say hello,” he tightens his hold on the animal, really hoping Karasuno doesn't notice his struggle. 

Despite all his efforts, he still manages to escape, leaping from his grasp towards his current interest. He yelps, lurching forward to try and catch his cat, “Milkbread, no!” 

“Suga-san!” 

Through his miniscule panic, the name registers in his mind. Suga. Huh, nice name. 

When Milkbread meets strangers, his first thought is to attack their face with a round of cat slaps. However, what is happening, Oikawa has never seen his cat do before. Milkbread purrs loudly, rubbing his face into Suga’s cheek as he holds him close to his chest. Suga laughs, bright and loud, “well aren't you so sweet?” 

For a moment, Oikawa gapes, letting his cool exterior break at the complete ridiculousness of the situation. “No way, he is not sweet. Milkbread has never been nice to anyone.” 

Saying it out loud is like flipping a switch for smart thoughts. Oh, that's why. 

This Suga person is his soulmate. 

Suga seems to have realised the meaning too, his laughter stopping, eyes growing wide. The rest of Karasuno stand around them, shuffling their feet with nothing to do. “We should go somewhere else, Oikawa-san.” 

“Wait, Suga.” The captain, Oikawa thinks he's called Sawamura, puts his hand on Suga’s shoulder. For some reason, it sends a spike of jealousy through him. 

“I'll be fine, Daichi.” Suga gives him two firm slaps on the back. Ah, so that must be where Milkbread gets his playful slapping tendencies from. With a smile that makes half of the team clutch their chests, Suga grabs his wrist and begins dragging him away. 

Oikawa's not sure what to say, allowing the silver haired setter to drag him along. Milkbread has climbed up to sit on his shoulder, watching Oikawa with an almost smug look. How he manages it, he's not too sure. 

When they're out of the gates, Suga slows down, Oikawa walks next to him. “So, we're soulmates.” 

He swallows, his mind still trying to process what the hell is happening. “Yeah.” 

With a shit-eating grin, Suga turns his head to face him and wiggles his brows. “You're much less talkative off court,” he notes, his tone much lighter than someone who just found their soulmate. 

“You cannot say you're not surprised.” 

Suga gives him a nonchalant shrug, “I had a hunch, you acted just as cocky as Pochi does.” 

“Hey!” Oikawa pouts, attempting to jab him with an elbow. He swerves out of the way with a laugh, Milkbread meowing loudly at the sudden movement. “I'm not cocky, I'm confident.” 

“You can be both.” 

“You're so mean to me, Suga-chan.” 

The hand around his wrist has moved down, their hands now joined together. Suga sticks his tongue out, “it's not mean if it's true.” 

“Wow, now I know why Milkbread likes you so much. You flock together to make fun of me.” Oikawa gives his soulmate a weak glare, it only makes Suga laugh and smile brighter.

“Your cat makes fun of you?” He asks, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. There's a flush on his cheeks from laughing, Oikawa has the fleeting thought that  _ wow, he's stunning.  _

Wait, no, he can have his gay panic another time. “You don't know how he acts in front of others, he's only nice to you because you're my soulmate.” 

Suga rolls his eyes, still smiling. “What kind of name is Milkbread anyway?” On cue, Milkbread stands up on his shoulder, swishing his tail so it brushes against Oikawa's cheek. 

“I like milk bread, sue me.” 

Instead of biting back with a retort, Suga squeezes his hand and gives him an almost suggestive smile. “How about we talk some more over some milk bread then?” 

Not once in his life has Oikawa ever been happier when offered milk bread. An invisible sensation fills him, making him choke on his words. His mouth opens and closes like a stupid, gaping fish. He clears his throat, trying not to flush at Suga's smirk. “You're going to very quickly become my favourite person, Suga-chan.” 

It gets a laugh from Suga. “You're pretty easy to please, aren't you?” He asks, smiling and swinging their joint hands. 

It's weird, really. Oikawa's never been much of a touchy person, not with people he doesn't know anyway. Even with his ex girlfriend, holding her hand felt unpleasant and quickly became an obligation. It's probably a good thing she broke up with him, not that he would ever admit that to Makki or Mattsun. Holding Suga’s hand was nice though. Well, that's probably why they call it soulmates, everything about them is meant to be perfect. 

They cross a road, the store becoming clearer as they get closer, the anticipation for milk bread fills his chest. Oikawa sniffs, almost pouting while he speaks, “Iwa-chan only buys me milk bread on special occasions.” 

“You wouldn't call this a special occasion?” Suga asks, the tone of his voice teasing. 

Pursing his lips, he gives their hands a particularly strong swing. His height works as an advantage and Suga stumbles a step forward, gripping his hand tighter. “Of course I do, my devil cat didn't attack you, it's a joyous occasion.” 

Hand on his chest, Suga looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “So you're calling me and poor Milkbread devils?” 

There is no way he will be fooled by that, not when he tries to pull the exact same thing with Iwa-chan. He narrows his eyes, looking down at his devious soulmate. “That depends, are you going to cover all my hoodies in white hairs?” 

Suga hums, shrugging his shoulders. “I'll make that decision if I think they're comfortable enough.” When he says that, he smiles up at Oikawa, a devious glint in his eyes. 

The store doors slide open, Oikawa clutches Suga’s hand tighter. “Suga-chan!” 

All that can be heard is Suga’s laugh over Oikawa's protests. They stroll down the street, eating their milk bread and talking about stories from their childhood, and Oikawa thinks he's pretty glad that Suga is his soulmate. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you enjoyed my sprinkle of contribution to the oisuga tag
> 
> If you want to chat or watch me slowly go crazy, hop on over to my twitter @rainbowhatduck


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